


Winter Inspiration

by BlueCaty



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCaty/pseuds/BlueCaty
Summary: On a cold winter's day, Quincey struggles to overcome writer's block. Tora and Poppy have an established long term relationship. Tora, who was away for a week on a mission, just returned home, paying a visit to Quincey. Will he help his friend find inspiration again?
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 17
Kudos: 134
Collections: MPL Christmas Collab 2020





	Winter Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myth_is_a_Mirror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myth_is_a_Mirror/gifts).



> A one-shot story, part of the Christmas Collaboration 2020 between fellow writers and artists.
> 
> A work of fiction based on the webcomic Midnight Poppy Land. All characters belong to the comic's creator Lilydusk. You can check her content also on Patreon at https://patreon.com/lilydusk.

“Well, this is boring,” Quincey sighed, pressing the remote control’s buttons. He was sitting on the couch in his living room, with a notebook on his lap, his attention directed at the wide flat screen before him. He browsed through an extensive list of Netflix romance movies. He flipped through them, searching for something, chose one, pressed play. Fast forwarded to a different scene, pressed play again. Watched for a minute or two, fast forward again, followed the action for another minute. 

“Pfft…”

He went back, chose another movie, repeated the process. 

“How on Earth do these networks make their money? This is absolute garbage. How many  _ Christmas princes  _ do people need anyway? There’s no way I’m going to watch any of them, not without a nice glass of Cabernet.” He poured himself a glass of dark red wine. On the screen, somebody proposed just when it started snowing. He rolled his eyes. “Jesus, maybe I need a whole bottle,” he muttered.

A few minutes passed. “I cannot take any more of this torture.” Quincey paused the movie again and got up. He paced the living room a few times, hands clasped at his back. Approaching the windows, he glanced outside. The view of the city on that late December afternoon was just as uninspired as those crappy romance movies. Grayish clouds, grayish buildings, the Narin river partially frozen. A pale sun shone powerlessly behind the clouds. Black cars and yellow cabs caught in traffic. People dressed in dark winter clothes, walking hurriedly, heads stuffed between their shoulders, hidden in their raised up collars, trying to escape the cold of that grim winter day. He checked his watch. A few more hours until his date with Cordelia. If only he was able to write something, anything until then, that would be great. 

Down below, a red car caught his eye.  _ Well, look who the cat dragged in _ . It was about time too. He watched the car as it entered the underground parking and moments later he heard the penthouse door slam. Tora hung his winter coat on the hallway hanger. The frown etched between his eyebrows did not predict anything good. But then again, his friend’s foul moods could either be a source of pure inspiration or pure dread.  _ Which one is it today _ , Quincey wondered. 

“Tora, honey, thank God you’re here!” Quincey chirped. “I’ve been stuck in the most awful writer’s block for the past few days and nothing, absolutely nothing could get me out of it. I had to resort to,“ he dropped his voice to a horrified whisper, “ _Christmas movies_ , can you believe that???” He raised a hand to his forehead, glancing at his friend from underneath it. “Please take me out of my misery!”

He was met with an unintelligible grunt, as Tora kicked off his boots and entered the living room. 

Determined to get more out of him, Quincey continued, “I need a fresh pair of eyes over this thing I’m working on. Would you care to read it? I could use your...uhm...raw expertise.” 

“Fuck off, Quince. Not in the mood today,” Tora growled.

“Well, that is obvious, Mr. Sourpuss. What’s gotten into you this time? And where on Earth have you been this past week?”

Tora shot him a dark look. “As if ya don’t know the answer to that question.”

“For a whole week, Tora? What the heck did my old man ask you to do now? Take down an entire army of his business rivals?” 

Tora’s features hardened, his jaw tensed.

“Shit,” Quincey muttered, his disposition dropping instantly. He was almost too afraid to ask. But the morbid curiosity got the better of him. “Were there any...casualties?”

“Dammit, Quince. Watch ya goddamn movies and stop asking stupid questions,” Tora snapped. He patted his pockets, searching for something. Not finding anything, he sighed and strode across the room, letting himself slump on the couch, defeated. 

“You’re out of cigarettes?” Quincey sat next to him and glanced sideways at his friend. Tora looked tired. Quincey was well aware of these missions his father would send him on. In the past, Tora would disappear for days in a row, always returning with the same dead look in his eyes. But it had been months since his last assignment of this kind and Quincey presumed that maybe Tora had worked out a new arrangement with his old man.  _ I guess I was wrong, _ Quincey thought, concerned about him.

Tora crossed his arms over his chest, leaning into the couch’s pillows. “Yeah. Just a reflex. Forgot I don’t have any. Been trying to quit for a while.” He paused, lost in thought. His voice softened. “No casualties this time, Quince. Just a long and difficult chase. But it’s over. This fucker’s been dealt with.”

Quincey exhaled slowly, relieved.  _ Always on the edge, Tora. You deserve some happiness, old friend. Maybe it’s time for both of us to make a hard choice.  _ Refusing to delve further into dark thoughts, Quincey decided to change the subject, knowing exactly what would brighten Tora’s day. 

“She’s here, you know.”

Tora’s body shot up straight, his eyes already plastered on the door.

“What? Where? I thought she’s at work.”

“I  _ am _ her work, you doofus. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two. Your  _ girlfriend _ was supposed to help me today fix some plot holes, but man, I’ve never seen her so tense. We called it quits after a while. She said baking is helping her unwind, so now she is in the kitchen,... hey, wait a minute!” he called, seeing Tora was already on his feet, aiming for the kitchen. Something from his tone got Tora’s attention. He stopped and looked back at him. 

“What?” 

Quincey sighed. “She was worried about you.”

The light drained from Tora’s eyes. He shifted his gaze toward the window and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know,” he said slowly. “Did she… say anything?”

Quincey felt his friend’s pain, an idea forming in the back of his mind. 

“No, honey. She did not. She keeps your secrets better than Gyu. But I can add two and two together. I’m guessing that since you’ve moved in together you’ve never been a day apart…”

Tora nodded. “Yeah.”

“And she knew of your… whereabouts?” Quincey questioned. Tora’s silence was the answer he needed.  _ Oh honey, no,  _ Quincey thought, realizing how deep this problem was. Finding a way to help him will have to be moved to the top of his priorities list.

“I tried to take her mind off things through work. I mean I'm no match for the Tiger of Ares Street, but I'm delightful company nonetheless,” he joked, trying to lighten his friend's mood. “Cheer up, Bro, you want her to be happy, not depressed. I believe she has no idea you returned today, so don’t scare her.”

Seeing the shadow of a smile on his face, Quincey waved him off, “Okay, shoo now, go to her. Leave me to my lonely quest for inspiration, your whole mood is killing my romantic energy. Don’t destroy my kitchen!” he shouted after him, while Tora disappeared along the hallway. 

***

Tora stopped in the doorway, watching her silently. Poppy was standing at the counter, her back turned to him, with an array of cooking ingredients in front of her. She had not heard him come in, as she was busy whisking something in a bowl. She moved to sift flour, the smell of sugar and vanilla filling the kitchen. His eyes traveled over her shapely figure, taking in the black stockings that covered her legs, the skirt that stopped right above her knees and hugged her ass in ways he was slightly jealous of, and the loose office blouse that did little to hide the delicious swell of her breasts. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, sweeping her neck with her every move. One of Quincey’s kitchen aprons was tied around her waist. The single one he owned actually. Not that he ever used it though. Princess only bought it because it read “ _Caution. Extremely HOT_ ” on the front. 

_ For once that damn apron is right _ , Tora mused, feeling a sudden urge to whisk her away somewhere quiet and preferably with a bed nearby. 

“Hey, Bobby.” 

He didn’t mean to startle her, but she was so caught up in what she was doing, that the sound of his voice made her jump and drop the measuring cup. Flour spread everywhere painting a thin white layer on the counter. 

“Tora!” Poppy shrieked and turned to face him, beaming with emotion and surprise. She had flour on her forehead and cheeks, but all that Tora could see was the wide smile that brightened the space around her and warmed his heart in a way only she was capable of doing. In two steps he was beside her, gathering her in his arms, kissing her like a madman, while she hung onto his neck. 

“I...missed you…so much,” she managed through his kisses, gasping for air. Poppy threaded her fingers through his hair, caressing the nape of his neck. God, he missed her. Her sweet lips, her light touch, the way she liked to play with his hair. He missed her damn perfect body, naked and hot under his hands, rocking over him as their nights fade into dawns, with them both sweaty and panting, never growing tired of each other. 

"I'm here now." He paused to brush the flour from her face. The shock dissipated, as concern took its place in her bright eyes. She moved her hands over his shoulders and arms, skimming up from his abs to his chest, to cup his face. 

“Are you...Is everything…?”

“I’m fine, Bobby,” he assured her, watching the smile return to her lips. “No need to feel me up, unless ya know… want to,” he arched an eyebrow suggestively, his hands sliding onto her ass, pressing her against him. He felt himself growing hard and wondered if they could sneak away without Quincey noticing. Poppy, however, had other plans. She reached up to clasp her mouth over his, finishing her kiss with a mildly painful bite of his bottom lip. 

“Ow,” he grumbled, “ya little beast…” 

"Behave, Tiger. Quincey is just down the hallway. And I need to finish these," she chuckled, smacking him lightly on the arm, returning to the messy counter. 

He brushed his thumb over his lip, checking to see if she drew blood. God, he missed  _ that _ . He would sooner die than admit it. That he liked her roughness, her possessiveness. Things she could not say, she would put them in their secret gestures, their mutual unspoken language. Biting him was nothing new. It had meaning. It meant "glad you're ok, never leave me again". It meant "you're mine". And she was right. For a long time now they belonged to each other.

Tora moved behind Poppy and encircled her in his arms. She squirmed a little, but finding a comfortable spot against his chest, did not say anything. She started to measure the flour again, sifting it into an empty bowl. She added brown sugar and cocoa powder and the mixture of eggs, butter, and vanilla she was whisking earlier. With his hands pressed on her belly, it was hard for her to move freely, but still, she did not push him away. He reveled in the comfort her warm body brought him, knowing that she longed for his touch the same way he did for hers. 

He leaned over her shoulder. “Whatcha’ makin’?” He rubbed his nose into her neck, inhaling her familiar scent, and smiled, seeing her skin erupting into goosebumps at his breath. He planted a soft kiss beneath her ear, feeling her pulse quicken against his lips. She stirred the ingredients together, apparently determined to ignore the fact that she was getting turned on. So cute. The furious blush that swept her face in an instant was way too alluring. He knew where that blush would spread if he were to tease her further. He had traced it all over her body one night. With his tongue. That memory still burned inside his mind, conjuring wicked thoughts. The things he would do to her… She was too close and too damn irresistible. He fisted her hair with one hand and pulled it gently to the side, exposing the column of her neck. 

“M-muffins,” Poppy replied, tilting her head sideways, a silent invitation. A wolfish grin unfurled on his lips at this small gesture. Thank fuck his girl liked to play. How come she knew exactly what he needed and how come she was offering herself so effortlessly to him, he had no fucking clue. He was one lucky bastard.

“Mhm... What kind?” he whispered, before nibbling her earlobe. Pressing her back against his erection, he trailed his tongue over her neck, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin. He was rewarded with a quelled moan that only made him want more. A hunger roared inside of him, the taste of her intoxicating and somehow never enough. Better than any drug he ever tried, better than any adrenaline rush, she was the one that filled his void. She was his vice now. 

“Ah...choc blueberry ones...Tora,” she breathed. She added blueberries and chocolate chips to the bowl, trying hard to stay focused on her task. Her knees weakened and she gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself. Her body was betraying her, as he knew it would. 

Over their many months together Tora had learned to read her signs and crack the shields of her insecurities. Her inviting blush, the hotness of her skin, the way her pulse intensified under his lips, the stinking cute way she stumbled into her words - she always had been too self-conscious about her body. But underneath it all, when they were completely alone, she bloomed like a delicate flower at his touch and transformed into a fiery, passion-driven goddess, filling him with awe every time, making him fall for her again and again. And if they had not been in Quincey’s kitchen right now, her restraint would have crumbled into pieces and she would have been already unbuttoning his jeans, instead of biting her lip while rubbing her juicy, but fully clothed ass against him. How could he resist her and why the fuck should he? With every passing second, every inch of his body yearned for connection, for the feel of her bare skin against his own. As if this was the only way he could redeem himself for leaving her side. And her bit-back moans at his kisses only fueled his determination. She wanted him just as much. Fuck Quincess, he should know better than to come after him, after the talk they just had had.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Peering over her shoulder, he moved his other hand under the apron, toward her cleavage, unbuttoning her blouse. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave…” he whispered, caressing her breasts over their thin lace confinement. “...Just as your body tells me to,” he sealed his lips over her collarbone, watching the blush spread down onto her breasts, as he released them over the fabric of her bra.  _ Every fucking time _ , he thought, satisfaction blooming in his chest, at the sight of her enticing response. 

His hand molded itself over the roundness of her breast, his senses remembering the map of her body. She leaned back onto him, her softness against his hard muscles, her need for his touch raw and unconcealed. He flicked his thumb over her nipple, drawing circles around it, his mouth rushing to catch another lustful sound from her lips. She tasted like chocolate, so damn sweet. The only time he loved the sugary taste, when it was coming from her tongue. She hummed against his mouth while his fingers dug into her skin, his moves still hindered by that cursed apron. He wanted to suck her gorgeous breasts, to lick her like a lollipop, to see her dark nipples harden under his tongue. There was no way a flimsy piece of fabric could prevent him from doing just that. Still clutching her hair, he spun her to face him and reached at her back to untie it. When he tried to take it off, Poppy stopped him. “No, leave it.” Tora watched her twist the bib of the apron into a rope and slide it between her breasts, leaving her skin exposed to him.  _ Now  _ that _ is extremely hot _ , he thought, the hungry creature inside him growling in anticipation.

“You insatiable man…” Poppy murmured as if reading his mind. She wrapped both hands around his head, knotting her fingers in his hair, and pulled him to her chest, giving in to his demanding mouth. Yeah, one lucky bastard. The fullness of her breasts fitted perfectly into his palms as if she was made for him. He teased her, trailing wet kisses over each one. He spread his fingers over her breasts, pressing them together and raising them up, until both her nipples fitted into his mouth. He flicked his tongue over them, nibbling on them, feasting on the low groans that now escaped her lips. She dug her fingers into his scalp, keeping him there, craving more. With her head slightly tilted back, her eyes closed and lips apart, her glowing skin touched by the winter sunlight, she was a sight his mind would not forget soon. He used to do that, store the moments of her pleasure like precious photographs inside his brain, ever fearful that he might lose her. His incredible gorgeous goddess. 

Abandoning her breasts, his hands moved lower over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze, before reaching under the hem of her skirt. He ran his palms over her legs, her stockings silky under his fingertips, almost feeling sorry he might tear them in the process. Reaching her upper thigh, he stopped abruptly as his fingers found smooth...hot...bare skin? And some sort of strap...what was she wearing? Intrigued, he crouched in front of her, pushed her apron to the side, and rolled up her skirt, revealing thigh-high stockings held up by garter belts, and the most fucking sexy pair of black panties. His mouth fell open and his cock approved, twitching painfully against his confinement. “Fucking hell, Bobby…” he looked up at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes, “you’ve been holding out on me.” 

Poppy shrugged, a tiny smile on her lips. “Surprise?” She dragged a finger along his cheek, following the line of his jaw. “Please don’t tear these ones apart too,” she pleaded, her smile turning into a sinful grin. There she was, the lusty little minx revealed only to him. He caught her finger with his teeth, nipping her skin. “Ow, ya big beast...” she echoed his words from earlier, withdrawing her hand. 

“Tell me,” he purred, turning his attention to her garters, "what’s with the sudden interest in sexy lingerie?” He hooked his fingers around a small strap, pulling on it lightly. “Not that I’m complaining.” He released the elastic strap, causing it to slap her skin. She let out a small cry, of surprise rather than pain, although it must have stung. Tora sealed his lips over the tender spot and kissed her softly. 

“It should have been a Christmas present…for you. I just wanted to get accustomed to the feel of it first.” Poppy gripped the edge of the nearby counter, seeking balance, as Tora traced small kisses on the inside of her thigh. “Glad you like… ahh,” her voice trailed off, words lost on her lips, as he swept a palm over her panties, finding her damp center, stroking her with maddening slow motions. 

“Christ, sweetheart. Merry Christmas to me then,” he husked. He pulled the fabric to the side, her essence dripping onto his fingers, the need to be buried inside her growing stronger. “This lacey thing rubbed you just right, you’re so fucking wet,” he continued, caressing her folds. 

“Uhh... N-not at all,” she let out through heavy breaths. Cheeks flushed, she locked her eyes onto his and reached a hand to touch him again. “This is all your doing...love.” 

His heart tripped on itself as it always did every time she said it. Still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He caught her hand midair and placed a kiss on her palm, before closing his fist over her wrist. He would be her balance now. He yearned to take hold of her body, the same way she took hold of his soul. 

“I want to taste you, woman. And I want to watch you while I’m doing it. I want to have that beautiful face I missed so much fill my mind, while you cum into my mouth. I want all of ya.”

She twined her hand around his. “I’m already yours.”

She had no sooner spoken, than he cupped her sex and swirled his thumb over her clit, the scent of her arousal making his mouth water and his cock ache. But she was his. His, as he flicked his tongue over her clit, teasing it. His, as he licked along her folds, plunging his tongue into her core, before returning to suck the sensitive nub. His, as he speared her soft center with two fingers, holding her from inside. Her low moans were for him. Her sweet essence coating his hand and lingering on his tongue was for him. The way she held onto his wrist and onto the counter, knuckles white and teeth clenched, her body arched under the building pressure of his tongue working her clit, of his fingers sliding in and out of her, faster and harder, was for him. The way she kept her gaze locked onto his this whole time, so fucking hot, was for him. The way she bit her lip to the blood, her walls tightening around his fingers, swiftly replaced by his tongue inside of her, the way she cried out at the moment his thumb rubbed her clit, coming apart in shaking waves against his mouth, as he had wanted - it was all for him. 

Tora got up, one hand still pressed over her pussy, feeling the last tremors of her orgasm, the other wrapped around her back, holding her tight against his chest, supporting her until she came to her senses. She snaked her hands under his shirt, the kiss of her palms over his chest and around his torso feverish and urgent. His shirt rode up, as her body clung to him, her hot skin against his forcing the limits of his control. She raised up on her toes, looking up at him, her breathing ragged and warm, desire burning in her eyes. He rushed to kiss her again, tasting the blood on her bitten lip. Fuck, he wanted to tear every piece of fabric that separated them, he wanted to hoist her in his arms and pin her on top of the nearest counter, he wanted to thrust into her without restraint, to hear her pant and moan and scream as she wished. His thoughts scattered as she unbuttoned his jeans and slipped her hands around his shaft, stroking him. 

“F-fuck, Poppy,” he hissed. 

“Hush, love. You’re not the only one craving today,” she whispered before wrapping her mouth around his aching cock. 

***

“What a waste of time.” Quincey turned the tv off. He stretched out his arms and yawned. The notebook lay on the coffee table, untouched, silently judging him. He shot it an annoyed look. He was at his third glass of wine and his inspiration muse had not bestowed her grace upon him.  _ What did I expect? I wanted passion and romance but they popped out some babies instead. Such a turn-off. As if I would care about the royal lineage of Rodalvia when all they’ve given me was a few dry-kisses and a cheesy proposal.  _

He decided to go and change clothes, to shake the boredom off. Maybe that would get the creative juices flowing. A fresh pair of pants, that will do. It worked for him. Once. Well, it couldn't hurt to try it again. 

The kitchen door was ajar, a heavenly smell coming from within. A hot chocolatey dessert would go well with his fourth glass of wine, he thought. He pushed the door, but before making his presence known, his gut stopped him in his tracks. Quincey was struck by a feeling of undisturbed intimacy, of something he should not be a part of, but at the same time he was transfixed by the sight in front of him.

At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary. A pan full of a dozen fluffy muffins was resting in the lit-up oven, looking almost done and mouth-watering good. The kitchen counter and table were clean, dishes were stacked on the sink dryer. Tora was embracing Poppy from behind, his back blocking her from Quincey’s view. The movement that caught his eye was their reflection in the large side window, on the wall opposing the kitchen door. They were completely clothed, maybe a bit disheveled but still, why did this feel so hot? Quincey blinked, confused.

She was wearing his apron, Quincey noticed. Tora’s hand cupped her jaw, his fingers cradling her face. Her hair swept to the other shoulder, he was whispering something in her ear. She held onto his arm, gripping it tightly, as if... Then he heard them. 

“How much longer?”

“...Five more minutes…”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

“You’re the one to talk! I cannot t-think straight with your hand down my… my… “

“Down your sweet, delicious, dripping pussy, Bobby. Can’t let go, sweetheart. It’s either this or I’ll have my cock claim you right here on this counter. Doubt it that you’ll keep quiet this time, I’ve been away from ya for too long."

“Do you have to be such a… such ahhh…” she panted at the workings of his fingers.

Tora coiled his body protectively over hers. She stretched an arm back, grabbing his neck. 

“A what, sweetheart?” He nibbled her jaw. 

“A tease…”

“A tease, huh? You insatiable woman,” he joked. “Want me to ravish you right here, to strip your fucking gorgeous body and spread you on this table? This is why you rub your round little ass against my cock, driving me insane? Want me to fuck you senseless, like the savage I am?” His voice rumbled in her ear. 

“Mmhmm…” 

Tora brushed his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, stopping her from biting it again. Sounding serious all of a sudden he asked, “Too much? Want me to stop?”

“Uh-uh,” she breathed. “I’m close.” 

His hand under her apron moved faster now, while the other one closed on her throat. “Or maybe you’re the savage, my lustful little beast. No more biting until we get home. Then you can scream all you want as I’ll fuck you against the wall until your legs will be shaking so badly you couldn’t stand on them anymore. Because I want to hear you, love, I want to hear you scream your pleasure, as you cum around my cock. And then I want ya to ride me. I want to see you go wild on top of me. God, you’re so fucking beautiful when you go wild, ya know you’re gonna make me cum so hard into your tight juicy cunt…"

She fisted his hair and drew him closer, a wordless moan forming on her lips. Tora clamped his mouth over hers, stifling her scream, transforming it into a desperate, abandoning kiss. Her body jerked then stilled, her chest heaved in ragged breaths, as he was holding her, enfolding her into his massive shape. 

Tora grinned, the look on his face of both pride and adoration. "Christ, remind me to thank Quincey for forcing me to beta read all these years." Poppy chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

_ You're welcome, Tora _ , Quincey thought with a triumphant smirk. No longer needing wine or chocolate, he stepped back as quietly as possible. He doubted Tora would still be grateful if he discovered exactly how much inspiration Quincey had just received from him. 

Moving away from the kitchen, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. His mind was playing scripts already, outlining chapters, finding characters' names, voices… _ An inverted story, a retelling of a classic…Hmm...a name, my lovely...nope… my sweet…My Sweet And Tender Beast. Perfect. _

But first… somebody finally answered his call. "Sugarplum, change of plans. I'm coming over in half an hour. By the way, do you happen to own a kitchen apron?"


End file.
